<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Genderbent Beatle Blurbs by Casafrass</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308176">Genderbent Beatle Blurbs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casafrass/pseuds/Casafrass'>Casafrass</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Genderbend, Girl Scouts, Lingerie, Polyamory, Smoking (duh), Smut, at some point, girls gettin it on, well you get the picture, will update tags as I go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:15:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casafrass/pseuds/Casafrass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently, I’ve become a *tad* obsessed with genderbent Beatles, so this is where I’m going to post my blurbs of writing. There will probably be some poly Beatles at some point. Smut is a given. </p><p>I will put the pairing + if the writing is NSFW/has a TW in each chapter title.  </p><p>Remember these are just blurbs (AKA minimal editing)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/George Harrison, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Ringo Starr, Paul McCartney/George Harrison, Ringo Starr/Paul McCartney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. *Smoking* Hot (J/R)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please forgive the title, I’ve slept for about four hours.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joan perked up at her cubicle as the woman across the room stood to go take her daily smoke break. </p><p>Joan had been trying to work up the courage to talk to her for forever. The only thing she knew was this woman’s name. </p><p>Well, <em>nickname.</em> It was a start, though. </p><p>And that was only because Joan had heard someone address the woman as such in the toilets. Which was probably a little creepy on Joan’s part but hey, she couldn’t get picky now. </p><p>Joan had an inward tug of war with herself for a few moments as she watched her crush disappear into the stairwell, debating whether or not to follow the woman, <em>Ringo,</em> outside. </p><p>What kind of a nickname was Ringo anyway? </p><p>Joan stood and peeked over the wall of her own desk. </p><p>“Psst, Stu. Stuart,” she whispered, waving her hand. </p><p>“What?” Stuart, Joan’s friend, hissed, clearly stressed with how the day had been going. </p><p>“Jeez, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Can I borrow a cigarette?” </p><p>Stuart looked up in surprise, reaching for his box of Marlboros. </p><p>“Jo, you don’t smoke.” </p><p>“I know, I know. I just— can you just give me one?” </p><p>Stuart gave her an odd look but passed Joan a cigarette. </p><p>“Use it in good health,” he quipped but Joan was already halfway down the hall. She knew most people took their smoke break in the little gathering place that the east stairwell led out to. </p><p>Sure enough, there were three people out there. One of them was Ringo. </p><p>Casually, as if she came out here everyday, Joan strolled up to where Ringo was. She pulled out the single cigarette and attempted to lean against the trash can serving as an ashtray. The can wobbled and Joan quickly drew back, catching herself before she could fall.</p><p>Ringo glanced at her but didn’t say anything, continuing to puff on her cigarette. </p><p>Joan smiled bashfully (god, when had she gotten soft like this?) and put the cigarette up to her lips. </p><p>That’s when she realized she didn’t have anything to light it with. </p><p>Well, fuck. This wasn’t turning out to be a very good plan at all. </p><p>Joan looked around, trying to determine if maybe someone had left their lighter. </p><p>No such luck. </p><p>“D’you need a light?” Ringo was suddenly offering, thumb at the ready on her own lighter. </p><p>“Oh. Er, yeah. Thanks. Dunno how I forgot mine.” Joan accepted, leaning over to light the cigarette. </p><p>“Happens,” Ringo shrugged. </p><p>“I do have one,” Joan assured. “It’s red with-with gold stripes. A present from a friend... we’re not friends anymore though.” </p><p>Ringo nodded slowly and Joan cursed softly. </p><p>
  <em>Pull it together, Joanie.</em>
</p><p>Joan worked to imitate Ringo’s posture first, resting her right elbow in her left hand and shifting her weight to one foot. If she was going to smoke, she wanted to look equally cool doing so.  </p><p>Joan went in for her first inhale. </p><p>Maybe her memory was a little fuzzy on the details of trying her first cigarette back in high school at a house party. She had remembered it was tough but really, it hadn’t been so bad. She’d been able to handle it, after several coughs. </p><p>Clearly, Joan had severely overestimated her ability to do the same when she wasn’t even a smoker. As soon as she sucked in a dose of smoke, her eyes began to water and Joan hacked out a frankly concerning sounding cough. It felt like her throat and chest was burning. She leaned over, spitting out heavy coughs and dry-heaving at one point, the tobacco having twisted her stomach into knots. </p><p>Was it possible to cough up your appendix? Seemed like Joan was about to find out. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Ringo was behind her then, resting an easy hand on Joan’s back. </p><p>“Fi—auegh— I’m f-fi-HOH-fine.” Joan rested her hand on her knee, bent over and breathing hard. A few more dry heaves. Joan smacked her lips, trying to bring saliva back into her drying mouth. </p><p>The other two people on their breaks had decided that that was enough and quickly went in shortly after Joan’s episode. </p><p>Ringo stayed though, and that’s really all that mattered, even though Joan had made a complete fool of herself. </p><p>She straightened after a few moments and steeled herself for another go. </p><p>“Stop that,” Ringo tutted, taking the cigarette out of Joan’s hand. </p><p>“Oi, give that back! I’m- I’m not done.” Joan eyed the cigarette wearily, debating whether or not she really wanted to give it another go. </p><p>“I know you’re not a smoker. I’ve never seen you out here before, and considering all that coughing you did...” </p><p>“I am a smoker! I am. Just haven’t done it in a while,” Joan tried to explain. </p><p>Ringo crossed her arms. </p><p>“Oh, really? Why are you taking the habit back up if you’ve quit, then?”</p><p>Joan winced. She had her there. </p><p>“Because... I’m trying to find a way to relax and I’m not one for yoga.”  </p><p>Ringo shook her head and stubbed Joan’s cigarette and her own out. </p><p>“Alright, be honest. Why did you really come out here?” </p><p>Joan sighed heavily, figuring she’d might as well fess up. It’s not like it could get any worse after this. </p><p>“This is going to sound pathetic, but, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m really intimidated by you though, so I haven’t been able to work up the nerve. I thought maybe I could get to know you like this... clearly, I didn’t think it through.” </p><p>Ringo stared for a little while and Joan interpreted her silence as an invitation to leave. She turned, prepared to go upstairs and lick her wounds, maybe seek comfort in Stu who would presumably laugh his arse off after hearing what had happened.</p><p>“Wait! Where’re you going?” </p><p>Joan turned. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>Ringo had a small smile on her lips, gaze fondly amused. </p><p>“You know that’s really cute, right? Probably the cutest thing anyone’s ever done to talk to me.” </p><p>Joan, never one to pass up compliments, preened at Ringo’s words. </p><p>“Yeah? The <em>cutest?</em> I do pride myself on being cute.” </p><p>Ringo grinned then. </p><p>“Y’know, if you wanted to talk to me, you could’ve come up to me. Didn’t have to hack your lungs out in the process.”</p><p>Joan sighed and nodded. </p><p>“It was not one of my best moments. Still cute though, right?” </p><p>Ringo hummed, twisting a purple ring around her finger. </p><p>“Very cute.” </p><p>“Maybe so cute that you’d want to go out sometime?” </p><p>Ringo laughed, eyes scrunching up, and Joan swore that was the best laugh she’d ever heard. </p><p>“Hmm. I could say it was up to that level of cuteness, yes.” </p><p>Joan beamed and pumped her fist. </p><p>“Gear! I-I mean...” she flicked her nose with her thumb, sniffing nonchalantly. </p><p>“Cool. That’s cool. I’ll see you later then.” </p><p>“Mm-hmm,” Ringo winked. “Count on it, love.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sod The Papers (J/P/G/R) [NSFW]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Joan’s feeling down about some comments in the papers... so she gets herself a saucy maid lingerie set. </p><p>The others, of course, walk in.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**SMUT AHEAD**</p><p>It’s been a while since I’ve written girls getting it on. So please let me know how I did and if you’d like to see more poly stuff in the future. Enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is stupid,” Joan huffed to her reflection in the mirror. </p><p>From the fishnet stockings that stretched across her hips to the little maid’s cap resting atop her head, Joan felt ridiculous. </p><p>It had been a suggestion from a magazine, of all things. Joan had begun flipping through a copy of Cosmo, bored out of her mind while waiting at the dentists’ office last week and a list of ‘tips’ had caught her attention. </p><p>Well, really, it had been the half naked women dressed in red, lacy underwear, but no one needed to know that. </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Tip #5: Feeling down? Dress up! Do it for yourself. Unleash your inner sex goddess. </strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Now, Joan wasn’t much for unleashing anything, but she had been less than comfortable with her body lately. A paper had commented on some photos of her and the others at the beach, where her swimsuit apparently had been “too much.”</p><p>On a whim, Joan had gone shopping alone and ended up purchasing a very revealing version of a maid’s outfit. </p><p>There were holes absolutely everywhere. Really. What was the point of there being any fabric if nothing important was going to be covered? </p><p>But Joan was technically on vacation, at least after the last show— what better time than now to buy lingerie she didn’t have the courage to wear in front of anyone? </p><p>She stared at the feather duster prop the outfit had come with. </p><p>Overkill, she decided, leaving the duster. </p><p>She stared at her reflection for a moment more. It did, if she was being honest, make her feel a bit better. Her tits were practically out, pushed beyond the law of gravity and she looked good. </p><p>Better than she had expected. </p><p>Joan stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting the elastic band that was attached to the maid’s cap.  </p><p>Now what? Usually someone would’ve torn it off of her by now. At least, that’s what she did when one of the others wore lingerie. Last time, it had been Georgia who’d been gifted a green set for her birthday. One peek of lace underneath her dress and Joan had been done for. </p><p>That had been a fun night. </p><p>Joan fetched the book she’d been reading from the bed and decided to relax on the couch. The magazine hadn’t said what to do after putting on the lingerie. Joan decided to go about her day and wait for her inner sex goddess to be unleashed. </p><p>In a way, this was quite freeing. Joan wasn’t used to the draft in the room and everything being exposed. Being alone with no one to see... she kind of liked it. </p><p>She pulled her knees into her chest and returned to the book of C.S. Lewis poems Mimi had given her last month. </p><p>Eventually, Joan got up to fix herself a cup of tea. While she waited for the kettle to heat, she lit a cigarette, leaning over the counter as the water boiled, continuing to read. </p><p>And that’s exactly where she was when the lock clicked and the others walked in, back from their shopping trip. </p><p>Joan nearly choked on her next inhale of smoke as she turned and the conversations ended. Paula, who was in front, simply stopped and gaped. </p><p>“Uh,” Ringo was the first to react, eyes wide. </p><p>“It-it’s not what you think!” Joan said quickly, stubbing out her cigarette. </p><p>“And what are we supposed to think exactly?” Georgia quipped, very obviously leering. </p><p>“‘Cause what it seems to <em>me</em> is you forgot to wear knickers. And that little skirt is too flimsy to not get torn off.” </p><p>Joan pulled down her skirt in a rush and straightened, remembering how nothing was covered. </p><p>“Very naughty, Jo,” Georgia tutted, obviously enjoying this. ”What would the world think seeing Miss Joan Lennon in a corset with her pussy on display, hm?” </p><p>Joan bent her knee as she leaned against the counter, now facing the door. Her brain was empty, unable to do more than stare back at her girlfriends. They all looked like they wanted to eat her whole, which wasn’t quite so far from the truth. </p><p>“I’m- I did this for myself. I wanted to feel... pretty.” Joan whispered the last word, suddenly feeling silly. </p><p>The kettle whistled with a shriek and everyone jumped. Joan bustled around the counter to take it off the stove, not really in the mood for tea anymore. </p><p>“You dressed up for yourself?” Ringo prompted as Joan inched back to them. </p><p>Paula hadn’t said a word, making Joan feel terribly nervous. She was usually the first to speak and reassure Joan. Her silence made Joan think maybe she didn’t look as good as she’d thought. </p><p>“Yeah. I read it in a magazine.” Joan could feel the blush on her cheeks, thinking about how dumb she must sound. </p><p>“You look good,” Ringo said, setting down her bags. </p><p>“But my legs...” Joan snapped her mouth shut, not wanting to explore her insecurities. </p><p>“You don’t like them?” Paula spoke, startling Joan. </p><p>“No, not really. I mean, you read those things in the papers. Heh.” Joan scratched the back of her neck. </p><p>Paula approached her, flats clicking softly on the linoleum. </p><p>“Can I be honest, love?” Paula murmured, standing a couple inches from Joan. </p><p>“Yeah, ‘course.” </p><p>Paula rested her hands on Joan’s thighs and squeezed, watching how the plush skin contorted underneath Paula’s sure hands. </p><p>“I really, really, <em>really</em> like your thighs.” </p><p>Joan swallowed, unable to form a comeback. </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>“Mm. And I’ll like them even more when they’re wrapped ‘round my head.” </p><p>Now Joan was definitely blushing. Her entire face felt hot. Evidently, she’d had nothing to worry about. </p><p>Paula ushered her closer, so they could all get a better look. </p><p>“Can you give us a twirl, honey?” Ringo requested sweetly, trying to make her more comfortable. </p><p>Joan shifted her weight from side to side. </p><p>“Um... alright. Sure.” </p><p>She went forward and did a quick spin, hands clasped in front of her. Her skirt flew up and Joan felt her cheeks burn.</p><p>Georgia whistled, leaning coolly against the wall.</p><p>“It-it came without underwear.” </p><p>“Sure. You will too,” Georgia promised. </p><p>“Do it again,” Paula told her. “But slower. What’s your rush, Joanie?” </p><p>Joan mumbled an okay and spun again, taking her time.   </p><p>“Good girl. Prettiest maid I ever saw,” Paula cooed. She took a step closer, itching to grab Joan’s hips hidden underneath the skirt, likely stretching out those damned fishnets. </p><p>“Don’t get excited now. I did this for meself, alright, not for you three to sex me up.” Joan pointed a finger. </p><p>Paula’s eyes darkened and she prowled forward. </p><p>“Oh, no? Not even a little? Not even if we made you come over and over?” </p><p>Joan’s resolve weakened as Ringo and Georgia pinned her with hungry gazes. </p><p>“Heh, you really like this, eh? Didn’t know you had a thing for cleanin’ girls,” Joan tittered. </p><p>“It’s all you, honey. Can’t you see the effect you’ve got?” Ringo purred. </p><p><em>“Joanie,”</em> Paula persisted. “Are you sure we can’t have a little taste?” </p><p>She got closer and pulled Joan forward by her hips, lightly peppering kisses on her neck. Joan didn’t try to protest, melting into Paula immediately. </p><p>“Mm, that a yes?” </p><p>Joan nodded eagerly, grabbing at Paula. </p><p>“Yeah, more? Well, I’d never want to leave you needing, love.” </p><p>“Can- can Ritchie play with my tits?” Joan murmured. </p><p>She felt rough hands on her chest almost automatically. Ringo pulled her breasts out of the corset, thumbing her nipples eagerly. Joan moaned into Paula’s mouth. </p><p>Blindly, she reached for Georgia. </p><p>“Geo,” Joan gasped. “Bite me.” </p><p>She loved getting marked up when she was feeling pliant and needy, content to bask in all the attention. Her favorite part was the marks left over, reminding her how taken care of she was.<br/>
Georgia was all too happy to contribute, holding Joan’s waist and sucking a sizable bruise into the junction of her neck and shoulder. The others had often been on the receiving end of Georgia’s love bites. </p><p>“Can I play with your cunt, pretty girl?” asked Paula. </p><p><em>“Please,”</em> Joan begged. Paula’s long fingers delicately slipped under Joan’s skirt. She began to finger her easily, commenting on how wet Joan was. Her wrist was loose, movements expert as if she was doing nothing more than playing her bass. </p><p>Though Joan sounded a hell of a lot better than any Höfner could. </p><p>Georgia decided to move down and tease the side of Joan’s breast, teeth bruising the soft flesh. Bright red bites erupted all over Joan’s torso and neck. Georgia was a fast worker after all. </p><p>Then Ringo’s tongue was on Joan’s breasts and she was gone, clinging to Paula desperately. </p><p>“Come on, Joanie. Rock on my fingers,” Paula said, coaxing Joan to her release. </p><p>Joan did just that, grinding on Paula’s hand. She’d originally thought all the attention might be overwhelming but everything felt so good and came in tenfold. </p><p>Joan searched for a pair of lips and Georgia met her, kissing hard. She sucked on Joan’s lower lip, tugging lightly. Joan loved it, chasing her for more. </p><p>Paula flicked Joan’s clit and her legs wobbled in surprise. </p><p>“Losing balance ‘cause it’s so good?” Paula teased. </p><p>Joan panted through a smile, angling her hips out so Paula’s fingers stretched her deeper. </p><p><em>“Close,”</em> she gasped, burying a hand in Ringo’s hair, pushing her breast forward. Joan’s voice got higher the more intense the pleasure became. Her sounds were nothing more than breathy whines and little <em>ah-ah’</em>s. Her legs ached from the position, but she was desperate for her release, body thrumming like a live wire. </p><p>“I know, Joanie. You can do it. Let go for us.” </p><p>Georgia groped her other breast that wasn’t occupied by Ringo, kneading it harshly. </p><p>“What a cute maid you are,” she hummed, swallowing Joan’s pleasured squeals. </p><p>A few more deep pumps of Paula’s fingers and Joan’s muscles tensed, body arching as she rode the high of her orgasm to its peak. Paula didn’t stop until the effects were overwhelming and Joan whimpered, weakly nudging her away. She leaned heavily on the others to avoid landing on her arse. </p><p>“How was that?” Georgia wanted to know once they’d gotten Joan on the bed. </p><p>“Good. Really good.” She folded her hands, lowering her gaze. </p><p>“What’s the matter, honey?” Ringo asked. </p><p>“Nothin’, nothin’. Just like bein’ with you all. I dunno what to say.” A flush bloomed across her cheeks. </p><p>“Feelin’ a little shy, Joanie?” Paula murmured, tilting Joan’s chin up. </p><p>“No…” </p><p>Paula smiled knowingly, petting Joan’s hair. </p><p>“Well. You’re really pretty in this. You’re always pretty, though.” </p><p>“Not always.” </p><p>“Of course always. Your smile, eyes, cheeks, tits…” </p><p>“Don’t forget those legs,” Georgia nearly purred. </p><p>“Why wouldn’t you think you’re not beautiful?” Ringo’s watery eyes bored into Joan’s. </p><p>“The papers—“</p><p>“Sod the papers. We say you’re a beauty and that’s that.” </p><p>Joan ducked her head bashfully. </p><p>“Ta. But don’t be gettin’ all slushy on me.” </p><p>She received a flurry of kisses all over her face, causing her to giggle and playfully bat them away. </p><p>“So, er…” Joan scooted backwards against the pillows and pulled one leg to her chest, showing off her natural flexibility. Her skirt bunched up, not leaving much to the imagination. </p><p>“You said somethin’ about my thighs?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Samoas and Thin Mints (J/P)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Joan is selling Girl Scout cookies for her little sister. Paula is on a diet, however, so she might need a little convincing...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Have some mclennon fluff :) (also I know they’re British and Girl Scouts are an American thing... just pretend for me)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Coming, coming,” Paula called as a knock came for the third time. She pulled the lock chain out and opened the door to reveal a girl who was around her age. </p><p>Except she was dressed in the uniform of that girl camp who liked to sell cookies. </p><p>“Uh, can I help you?”</p><p>“Hello, Miss! My name is Joan and I’m here representing Troop 425. Are you interested in helping the Girl Scouts of America by purchasing a box of cookies?” </p><p>Paula cracked a grin, wondering if this was a joke. This girl had an accent similar to hers, and appeared at least a year or two older. She couldn’t possibly be serious. </p><p>“Aren’t you a little old to be a Girl Scout?” </p><p>Joan gestured to the sash her youngest sister Jackie had insisted she wear. Joan was a foot taller, so the sash didn’t slide past her neck, slung awkwardly under her armpit. </p><p>“Clearly not. Got me a sash an’ everything, see?” </p><p>Paula folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. </p><p>“So if I wear one of those little ascots around my neck, can I call myself a Boy Scout?” </p><p>“Free country, innit, love? We’re in America after all. I think you’d pull off an ascot very well.” </p><p>Joan shook her clipboard. </p><p>“Now, much as I enjoy talking with such a pretty girl, I really am dyin’ to know if you’ll be purchasing any Tagalongs or Do-Si-Dos.” </p><p>Paula chose to breeze past the compliment, though she had to admit that this “Girl Scout” was charming. </p><p>“An important wondering, I agree. The thing is... I’m on a diet.” </p><p>“Aw, you don’t need a diet, love! All good from where I can see.” </p><p>“I think they should enforce that age limit on Girl Scouts more. The older ones have too much lip.” </p><p>“Yeah, but you’d much prefer me, wouldn’t you, darling?” </p><p>“I thought this was supposed to convince me on why I should buy cookies. Quite unprofessional for you to be so flirty, Miss Girl Scout.” </p><p>Paula couldn’t hide her gleeful grin. </p><p>“Alright, I understand. Looking for initiative. Smart bird, you are. What if I do something for each box you get? Anything you’d like. Unless you’re a serial killer and you want to chop off my toes or something. Me Auntie would have me head if I came back toe-less.” </p><p>Paula hummed. </p><p>“That’s still a wide range of options. Anything, really?” </p><p>“Scout’s honor,” Joan chirped, holding up three fingers. </p><p>“You still can’t convince me you’re a Scout.” </p><p>“Technically, I’m an honorary scout. Me little sister broke her leg and was really sad, so I offered to go out for ‘er. Cut me some slack, won’t ya?” </p><p>Paula softened. She was a sucker for the gentle hearted. Even if this girl had quite a mouth on her. </p><p>“Alright. You broke me. I’ll buy three boxes of those coconut things.” Paula went to get her wallet from the counter. </p><p>“I didn’t bargain with ya, though.” </p><p>“No, no, if it’s for your sister...” </p><p>“But you broke your diet for me, love. I should kiss ya, at the very least.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>Joan blinked. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>Paula shrugged. </p><p>“Kiss me, then. If you’d like.” </p><p>Joan slowly accepted the offered money and put it in a little purse. </p><p>This girl sounded serious. Joan had offered, after all. She was cute too; a kiss would certainly make all this extremely worth it. </p><p>“Yeah? You’re sure?” </p><p>“Unless you were just joking,” Paula began, suddenly wondering if she’d misread Joan’s forwardness. </p><p>“Not at all. But I don’t think any of this is in the handbook.” </p><p>Joan leaned in and Paula met her halfway. The kiss barely lasted three seconds but Joan was dizzy when they broke away and her lips tingled. </p><p>Who knew a kiss could feel like <em>that?</em></p><p>“You know,” Paula murmured as she pulled away, voice a little thick. “I think my diet can wait if you’ll be coming around more often.” </p><p>Joan grinned. </p><p>“Do I have to bring cookies every time I see ya?” </p><p>“Certainly wouldn’t hurt...” </p><p>Joan bowed, offering her clipboard with a flourish. </p><p>“Then your information, if you please. So I can personally deliver the cookies.” </p><p>Paula filled out the boxes in neat script, blushing when her hand brushed Joan’s. </p><p>“And if you could put your phone number right in the corner there,” Joan pointed. </p><p>“Why do the Girl Scouts need my phone number?” </p><p>“That’s for me so I can call you about where you’d like to go for our date next week.” </p><p>“You’re going through fairly great lengths to ensure I buy more cookies, no?” Paula teased. </p><p>“Mm, I dunno. I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna be my best customer, love.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>